


Tête-à-Tête

by elementalram



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Classroom Sex, F/M, Fanart, Food Kink, Masturbation, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Puzzles, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Train Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-11-19 05:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalram/pseuds/elementalram
Summary: When the Professor catches his assistant in a compromising situation, they decide that it's better for both of them if they work at the problem together.  Lots of porn and a little bit of plot.  My goal for this series is to write the Professor as a more dominant participant than he is usually characterized in this pairing.  All critiques and suggestions are welcome!





	1. Hotel I

Emmy lay in bed, sheets pulled all the way up to her chin.  Even in the dead of night, it was sweltering outside in the summer heat, and it wasn't all that much better inside the humble little hotel she found herself staying at with Luke and the Professor on their latest case. It had only been two days after they returned home from Monte d’Or when the Professor received another request for his services yet again. Although she certainly enjoyed the excitement that came with a fresh investigation, she wished that there had been a little more time between their last case and this one. There had been virtually no time to recharge, and the effects were starting to catch up with her.

She peeked over at the peaceful, sleeping figures of Luke on the bed next to hers and the Professor on the couch near the door. The room was nearly silent, save for their soft rhythmic breathing and the buzzing call of the cicadas outside. She stared back up at the ceiling. _What they don’t know won't hurt them_ , she hoped. Slowly she sneaked a hand across her abdomen and down into her pajama bottoms. She was already beginning to get wet; she touched the little bundle of nerves between her legs and closed her eyes as she searched for a comfortable tempo.

It wasn’t usually this difficult to contain herself. Maybe it was due to the heat, or perhaps it was simply an effect of being cooped up too long, but whatever the reason, she had felt a burning desire to touch herself every night this week, and tonight was no different. And, if she kept quiet, she would be able to reach the climax she so longed for without raising any suspicion, just like she had last night, the night before, and the night before that.

She peeked over the covers at her boss on the couch as she continued to stroke her clitoris and studied his figure; he was clad in a loose shirt and striped pajama pants, his rarely-seen messy hair falling over his face.  His breathing was steady and his chest rose and fell slowly. Watching him, the man whom she worked for and admired from afar for years, she started to feel the telltale buildup behind her navel.  She closed her eyes and continued with enthusiasm.  She was starting to get close. Her body shook as she rubbed with her fingers.  Her breathing was getting faster; she squeezed her breast under her pajama shirt and arched her back, toying with the hard nipple.  She teetered on the brink, and finally felt the pleasure she craved all night take over.

With a sigh, Emmy languidly opened her eyes.  However, there was something blocking her view of the ceiling. The Professor’s face came into focus: he was standing right beside the bed!  Suddenly, he tore the blankets away, and before she could react, he yanked her out of bed.  He gripped her wrist tight in his fist as he pulled her through the door and out of the room.

Once in the deserted hallway and a few paces away from their room, he turned to face her, an anger burning in his eyes the likes of which Emmy had never seen in him. The Professor had her nearly pinned against the wall.

" _Did you know Luke was scared to go to bed tonight because he thought this hotel was full of ghosts?_ " he growled.  Horrified, Emmy looked up at him, her heart racing and her face burning under his stern stare.  Her wrist was really starting to hurt.  He seemed to be waiting for a reply, but she couldn't bring herself to squeak out a word.  She shook her head.

“Imagine his confusion when he woke up in the middle of the night to what he described as ‘a scary ghost moan.’  I couldn’t begin to guess at what the origin of the sounds might be-- that is, until this morning.  You walked right by me on the way to the shower.   _And I could smell_ _you_."  He raised her arm and held it between them, and Emmy realized what he had been referring to: to her acute horror, she could smell her own sex on her fingertips.

He continued: “I was certain that I was wrong, until now. Emmy, even if there were no other time or place to indulge yourself in this manner, your behavior is still completely inadmissible.  It would have been one thing had it just been you and I in that room, but imagine if Luke had _actually seen you_ like that.”

Emmy felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, only far worse.  She hadn’t been admonished this completely since her schoolgirl days, and felt like curling up into a ball and dying.  She looked down at the ground, and tried to find the right words to say.

“I’m so deeply sorry, and... very thoroughly ashamed.  I didn’t mean to cause any harm, but I did.  I… I will go pack my bags and call a cab.”

The Professor paused.  He seemed to soften at these words.  He relaxed his grip on her wrist and allowed it to lower back to her side, his hand coming to a rest in the palm of hers.  “Emmy, look at me.” He raised her chin with his free hand, but she kept her eyes averted. “Perhaps I too should apologize; I may have been a little brash, too quick to criticize.  The very last thing I want is to lose you as an assistant and a friend over a simple lapse in judgement.  Your actions were reprehensible, but they _are_ now in the past."

She was trying to listen, but she was momentarily distracted.  His fingertips were slowly moving up and down hers, undoubtedly feeling the moisture there.  Emmy was suddenly keenly aware of the heat radiating off his body, even in the warm hallway.  She didn’t see him take a step, but suddenly his body felt very close to hers as she stood there with her back to the wall.

She tried again to speak, but again her voice failed her.  She nodded instead.

"Our next step must be to come up with a course of action so your needs can be met without causing undue trauma to the boy.  And since propriety assures that I assist you, I do have a suggestion, but I should like to hear your thoughts on the matter first."

She paused, her eyes still on the ground. One of his fingers had begun drawing circles in her cum on the tip of her finger, and she realized with a start that she could see the unmistakable outline of his hard dick in his pajama pants.

 _Holy anaconda, Batman!_ she thought to herself. _He wants to fuck!_

"I'm game if you are!" she inadvertently blurted out.

He stood there for a moment and looked at her, searching her eyes.She inwardly cursed her recklessness; here she was being given a chance at forgiveness, but she just threw it in the trash!He looked away from her and down the hall.Suddenly, he started walking towards the staircase at the far end of the hall and she found herself once again being led by the hand to an unknown destination.

"W-where are we going?" she stammered.

"Hm?  You'll see." 


	2. Hotel II

Emmy stood behind the Professor in the dimly lit hallway of the hotel, impatiently watching him trying to work open the lock to a linen closet with the keycard to their room.He managed to wedge the card into the crack between the door and the jamb and was trying to get it to side down and catch the lock.  She looked down the hall on either side of them.Thankfully, this town was not a popular tourist destination, and as such, there seemed to be very few occupants in the hotel.  Emmy did a little jig in place with her hands in her pockets; she wanted so badly to simply roundhouse the damn door open!Just then, the Professor made a short, triumphant sound and straightened up.

The Professor pushed the door open and she slipped inside the closet ahead of him, groping the wall for the light switch.As one would expect from a linen closet, it was lined with shelves full of clean towels, washcloths, blankets, pillowcases and more.Emmy looked around.Virtually everything needed to restock all the rooms on this floor was crammed into this small room.  Near the door was also a bin piled high with clean comforters ready to be folded and placed on the shelves.

The Professor closed the door after them and approached her from behind."If you want to make the most of this, do exactly as I say," he whispered close to her ear, causing the hairs on her neck to stand, "and your needs will be satisfied tonight tenfold." 

 _Can’t argue with that!_ she grinned.  He started by lightly brushing against her earlobe with his lips as he pressed his body against hers.She could feel him pulse against her backside as he drew his arms around her stomach.He kissed behind her ear, then her neck, massaging it with his teeth.She leaned back to rest her head on his shoulder; her hand searched behind her and found his thigh, then his long, thick—

The Professor grabbed her hands and guided them upwards to hold onto a shelf.  “Hang on and bend over," he instructed.She did as she was told, albeit somewhat reluctantly, bending at the waist almost ninety degrees.He slid his hands back down the length of her arms, then underneath to hold and squeeze her bare, round breasts through her soft shirt, lightly brushing his fingers over the hard nipples.He continued to snake his hands down her stomach and slipped them under the waistband of her shorts and underwear, stopping to rest a finger on her nub.

“Honestly, Emmy.You really haven’t been behaving yourself, have you?  To be this wet, you must have been working on it all night."He tapped on the swollen nub with a finger, then pressed down on it, rubbing slowly.Just then, he pulled her shorts down to the floor and got to his knees.He ran his hands over her backside, then gripped it tight.He leaned in and licked her with one long, slow stroke, then slid his tongue around and over her sensitive nub while massaging her ass.He hummed against her clit, eliciting a cry from her.As he continued to eat her out, Emmy let her head drop, still holding fast to the shelf.She felt her legs shaking and feared they might buckle beneath her. 

“ _Shit_ , Professor, I can't take much more,” she breathed.

“Almost there,” he said, straightening up.She could feel his hard cock suddenly appear between her legs.He reached around her thigh to continue rubbing her clit with his fingers while he stroked the outside of her opening and along her vulva with his cock.  His other arm moved beneath her to help support her upright.  He rubbed faster.Suddenly, her legs felt tingly and her stomach fluttered as a blessed warmth cascaded over her body.

Thankfully, the Professor had an arm around her waist when her legs finally did give out; he helped her up and turned her around, pinning her bodily to the door.  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and she returned the favor with enthusiasm, savoring the taste of her own sex in his mouth.She snuck one hand between their bodies and eagerly grabbed his cock again, which was enticingly slick with her juices.She gripped it tight and pumped; he broke away from the kiss to rest his forehead over her shoulder against the door with a groan. 

"Emmy," he breathed, "I need you."With renewed strength, she gripped his shoulders, leapt up and wrapped her legs around him.They clumsily slammed into the door as her weight settled; he guided himself to press against her wet heat and thrust, pushing himself all the way inside.  He groaned as he settled into a rhythm.  

"Oh god, yes Professor!" she exclaimed.

He slowed down. "Use my name."

"Eh, really?" she asked, then timidly said, "Hershel?"

He immediately thrust again, grinding his hips against hers. "Again."

She called out his name, and again he thrust hard.  Now she was chanting his name as he picked up the pace.  She could feel the butterflies starting to reconvene behind her belly button and she clenched down around him, running her hands through his hair and over his back.  She slipped a hand under his sweat soaked shirt to feel the muscles working hard to satiate her carnal desires.  

The Professor lifted her up and guided her a few steps to one side, setting her down on the pile of freshly laundered comforters in the bin.  He leaned over her, one hand on each side of her hips, and resumed pounding into her.  She arched her back; the new angle seemed to have afforded him the ability to reach that bundle of nerves deep inside her body.  She held tight to the rim of the bin, still crying his name.  All at once, she felt herself tighten around his throbbing flesh as her mind went blank.  Her heart racing, ecstasy tore through her shuddering body as she called his name out one last time.  His cock was pulsing within her.  Finally, their bodies collapsed in a wet heap over the lavender scented comforters.

After a moment, he rolled off and lay next to her in the bin. "My goodness.  It's really hot in here," he said, tugging up on his shirt to let air billow through.  He turned to look at Emmy.  She was faced towards the ceiling, her eyes closed, languidly tracing a finger through the slick wetness between her legs.  "Did that satisfy, at least for the time being?"

"For the time being, yes," she said, trying her best to sound cool and collected.  She beamed as turned to look at him.  "But we will need to do that again.  You know, just in case you didn't actually blow my mind."

He paused.  He seemed to be thinking, and Emmy was suddenly worried that he might contest a second rendezvous.  Finally, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.  "You know Emmy, some say that the biggest and best sex organ is the brain."  He yawned. "I certainly like to think so."

She laughed. "Professor, you are a mystery wrapped in an enigma."

Eventually, they gathered up the strength to return to the hotel room.  They felt bad about leaving the dirty comforters behind, but they couldn't think of a way to clean them without raising the suspicion of the hotel staff.  The Professor resolved to come back in the morning and reattempt that puzzle when he wasn't so tired, but for now, they left the mess and walked back to their room. 

When they opened the door, Luke was waiting for them. "Oh there you are, where have you two been?  I was starting to get worried!"

"Sorry Luke," the Professor began, "we were, ah...."

"Fighting the ghost!" Emmy interjected.

Luke stared at them, wide eyed.  "I knew it!" he exclaimed.  "So did you get him?" 

"You bet! We beat him up good. You can always count on us to keep you safe!" 

"So, how did you manage it?  What was the ghost like? Was he super scary?"  

The Professor collapsed onto the sofa and closed his eyes.  "Why don't we all get some much-needed rest for now, and I'm sure Emmy will tell you all about how she managed to kill a ghost in the morning."

Emmy slipped back into bed, her body tired but her mind reeling as she contemplated the possibilities open to her with the Prof-- Hershel.  As soon as her head hit the fluffy pillow, she felt a kind of torpor sweep over her.  She tried to keep her eyes open so she could come up with a convincing story for Luke, but sleep had the better hand, and at long last, she nodded off.


	3. Lecture Hall I

Emmy dashed down the long hallway in the School of Archeology building of Gressenheller University, dodging students left and right.She checked a clock hanging over a drinking fountain on the wall as she sailed by: she was seven minutes late!The Professor had asked her to come by after class to help him move some curios out of the lecture hall and back to his office.  Current tardiness aside, she was happy to be back in London and out of that sweltering city that they had conducted their last investigation in.She slowed to a walk, feeling a little lump in the pit of her stomach as she approached the door to the lecture hall.She hadn’t had a chance to be alone with the Professor since their encounter at the hotel.The day after their secret meet-up in the linen closet, everything to do with the case suddenly came to a head; the culprit was outed, the artifact retrieved, and the town was saved.  They had been hard pressed to speak during the ride home too, mostly because of Luke's presence.  Then, upon returning to London, they found themselves in a flurry of extra work as they tried to make up for lost time.However, today was Friday, this was his last lecture for the day, and so Emmy felt determined to finally broach the subject. 

She pushed the door open."Sorry I'm late, Professor," she said.

Professor Hershel Layton was standing in front of the chalkboard, erasing his lecture notes.As she closed the door, he turned to her and smiled. “Ah, Emmy!No need to apologize; the lecture ran a little long so the students have only just left.”He put down the eraser and approached the desk.“I just need you to help me organize these and carry them back to the office, and then I can take things from there."He gestured to the desk which was covered in knickknacks of every variety and the various cases to which they belonged.

 “Can do, Professor!”They moved about in silence as they sorted and packed each item carefully into its respective storage space within one of the many boxes on the desk.The Professor was known by all, some would say infamously so, to happily squirrel away trinkets that would have very little or no value to an ordinary person.Emmy surmised that today he must have used some of them to aid in his lecture and wondered what the topic could have possibly been. 

As she placed an old, bent spoon in the box, she recalled her earlier resolution to bring up what happened at the hotel.However, the silence between them was palpable, and her throat felt extraordinarily dry.Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the Professor did also.  Their words incoherently collided.

“Oh, sorry!Go ahead, Professor.”

“I apologize, Emmy.Please, I insist.”

Emmy took a deep breath.”Um, well, I guess,” she started.This would be harder than she thought.“A lot happened during our last trip, and, well, for one, I never got to say thanks for, you know… for not firing me.”She found herself playing with her fluffy hair, patting it down flat.Suddenly she reminded herself of that man they were constantly running into on their travels, Aldus, and stopped.

"Oh, Emmy," he smiled warmly.She was already feeling relieved. "You needn't thank me.After all, one thing that makes humans unique is our ability to empathize, or to put oneself in the shoes of another.Certainly I wouldn't be a very good person if I didn't take into consideration your feelings.No..."He paused, rubbing his thumb over a seashell from one of the open kits. "Actually, I was rather hoping you'd mention what happened afterwards...."

"Oh! Yeah, yes, um," she stammered.She felt a dozen or so emotions rip through her at once.How could she tell him that she wanted to fuck him every single day for the rest of her life without sounding too eager?

He put the shell in the box and ran his index finger over a little clay pot in the slot next to it, looking down at it as he felt the ridges in its surface."I've been thinking.  I can't get it out of my mind, you see. ...Or rather, I can't get _you_ out of my mind." His eyes flicked upward to meet hers.

“Nice,” she said. “—I mean, _that's_ nice.A nice thing to say.Yeah, I can sometimes have that effect, you know."She tried to casually lean against the desk and knocked his water bottle to the floor.She hurriedly picked it up and set it back down.Truth be told, a tumultuous storm of butterflies had converged all at once in her stomach at his words and she was desperately trying to calm them. 

A smile on his lips, he took a step closer.Suddenly, his eyes flicked towards the door and back.“The next class doesn’t begin for two hours,” he said in a low voice.“Do you want to finally have that second tête-à-tête you mentioned?You know, just in case I 'didn’t actually blow your mind' last time?”

Her body was a veritable active battleground for butterflies clashing in arms now.She looked around at the wide, empty room and up at the benches.Even in her wildest college days, she never dreamed of doing it in a lecture hall before, but the temptation was beyond measure.

"I'll go lock the door!" 


	4. Lecture Hall II

Emmy sat on top of the wide wooden desk at the head of the spacious lecture hall as Professor Layton stood before her, impatiently pulling open her blouse.She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, feeling his hardness pressed against her through the fabrics of their clothing.He slipped a hand inside her shirt to squeeze her through her bra and push her shirt open further, and she moaned with her mouth open wide as she leaned into his the palm of his hand.  Her cry echoed softly in the empty room.

“We need to be quiet, Emmy,” he whispered between kisses to her neck.  "There may be students in the hall waiting for the next class.  We don't want them getting curious, do we?"  She shook her head and bit her lip.  He kissed her neck, her collar, then the tops of her breasts as he rubbed his thumbs over her hard nipples.  He pinched them lightly, teasing them until they were completely hard.  His hat had fallen off at some point and rolled away towards the bottommost tier of desks, a fact for which Emmy was grateful as she ran her fingers through his soft hair.  Bending over, he lifted a breast and took it eagerly into his wet, warm mouth.  

Emmy slipped a hand through the collar of his shirt to feel the muscles on his neck and back.  With a rustle, he pushed her jacket off her shoulders and to the desk, then fumbled at the button to her pants.  She was soon guided off the desk, then bent forward over it, scattering a few of the Professor's knicknacks to the floor.  Her pants were now around her ankles.  She could hear his zipper, then felt a pressure against her entrance.  She pushed backward against the desk to encourage him to go faster; the pressure intensified and he groaned her name as he pushed into her.  She felt his weight shift as he bent forward to whisper in her ear.  

"I haven't been able to think straight since that night at the hotel.  I saw you, you know," he confessed, slowly drawing back out again.  "You were looking at me while you were masturbating, Emmy.  Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you come?"

She tried to think of something witty to say, but her mind was entirely blank.  He had picked up the speed, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.  She thought she had been doing a good job managing the volume of her voice until the Professor reached around to put two fingers into her mouth.  As she suckled, his other hand was back at her breast, pinching her nipple.

A loud metallic rattle pierced through the room as the locked doorknob to the lecture hall was jostled from outside.  Emmy gasped and tried to stand, bumping into the Professor, whose weight quickly left her as he jolted back.  The doorknob rattled again, then was still.  They stood motionless for a moment, barely daring to breathe.

Emmy swore under her breath.  “You said two hours, right?” she hissed, hiding behind him as she struggled to quickly redo the buttons on her blouse.

“Yes.”  He looked bewildered as he fixed his pants and smoothed out his shirt.  The doorknob was still motionless and silent.He looked away from it and up to the clock above the chalkboard.“Well, more or less.”

“Maybe that was just someone passing by?” Emmy said, hopeful.They watched the door, hearts still pounding furiously, but nobody came through, and the doorknob did not make another sound.

The Professor whispered, “I guess that wasn't Dr. Weiser, or she would have used her key.  Still, that felt a little too close.Perhaps this is our cue to go."  He bent forward over the desk to retrieve Emmy's yellow jacket.  

Now that the panic in her stomach had died down a little, she felt exhilaration creep into its place.  Her core felt unsatisfied and raw from the recent friction, and she needed more.  She had been so close; she could still feel that unmistakable itch deep within her that could only be satiated one way.  

"You're not going anywhere just yet." she said, grabbing him by the waistband of his pants.  "You, sir, need to finish what you started." 

Before he could say anything, she quickly led him up the steps andbetween two of the the solid wood built-in desks.Satisfied that the added cover and the new distance to the door would buy them some semblance of safety, she pulled him clumsily on top of her and to the worn hardwood floor.Without missing a beat, the Professor hurriedly reopened her shirt as he bent forward to kiss her throat. He pressed a knee between her legs and she ground herself against it, pressing her feet to the ground to lift her hips.  The renewed friction was making her head spin.  

“Let's pick up where we left off.  Roll over and get on your knees.” 

She eagerly did as she was told, flinching as her bare breasts met the cool hardwood flooring.  The Professor reached around her to undo the button and unzip her pants, then once again tugged them down around her knees.  He rubbed her bare backside with one hand, thumbing at her wet entrance.  She could hear his clothes rustle and the sound of a zipper, then felt his other hand join the first, coming to a rest on her hips. Suddenly, she felt that pressure against her; once again it slowly intensified as he pushed deep inside.  Finally she could feel his body pressed flush against her backside.He paused here for a moment, then slowly pulled almost completely back out again. 

“Hershel, faster,” she gasped.He put one hand on the floor near her shoulder and looped the other around her thigh to press against her clit.He rubbed as he picked up speed with his hips, his low voice murmuring salacious promises into her ear.  She could feel a tingle behind her navel as he stroked her inside and out; her whole body tensed up as it teetered on the brink of release.  She squeezed her eyes shut and all at once her body shook: she struggled to keep her voice in check.  Her center fluttered as the Professor's hand roamed over her stomach and back down again.He pushed himself deep inside of her and paused, and Emmy could feel him throbbing as warmth collected within her. 

With her eyes still closed, she lay her head down on the cold wood floor.  The Professor shakily pulled out and she could feel him collapse next to her.  He rolled over onto his side and softly kissed her ear, tracing a finger languidly over her stomach and around her belly button.

"That was amazing, can we do this a lot, Emmy?" Hershel asked.  A frown flashed over his face and he winced. "Sorry, that was far from eloquent, but--"

"--But yes, I'd like that."  She kissed him on the nose and he smiled.  As she opened her mouth to speak again, she suddenly heard the rattle of the doorknob at the bottom of the lecture hall once again.  Emmy's body stiffened.  This time, the rattle was accompanied by the scraping sound of a key entering a lock.  

"Dr. Weiser is early after all," Hershel murmured to himself.  He got onto his knees and, lacking any alternatives, gave her his jacket to clean herself with.  He fixed his clothing, then crawled to the corner of the desk and peeked around as the door opened.  He paused, then crawled back, nodding to affirm Emmy's worst fear. He whispered, "We'll have to leave the kits behind for now and figure out how to sneak out of here without being detected.  The Doctor is known for being rather oblivious to her surroundings, or so her students say, so we shouldn't have too much difficulty."  

Emmy looked overhead at the top tier of the lecture hall.  There was another exit in the rear corner which led straight outdoors.  She tugged his shirt and pointed to it, and he nodded, giving her an approving smile.  Suddenly, he reached above his head and looked at her, panicked.  His hat was still on the bottom tier!  For a split second, he looked defeated.  Then, just as quickly, a smile appeared below his calculating eyes and he grabbed her hand.

"Follow me." 


	5. Train I

Professor Layton looked through the window at the countryside flying by as he held his cup of Earl Grey under his nose.The view from the Starboard Express was wonderful, and the tea that the luxury train served was even more so.It was exactly what he needed after such a busy morning spent preparing for this trip; he had once again received a request for assistance, this time to a place called Saguaro Falls.Although this town seemed to have an issue that was severely outside of his area of expertise, Emmy had declared it too interesting to pass up, and so they decided to leave as soon as possible. 

He looked away from the window at Luke, who was sitting across from him.As always, the boy was determined to stay by his side through hell and high water, and as such, the Professor had been hesitant to reveal to him the nature of the issue surrounding Saguaro Falls.Unfortunately, it had to do with a recently revealed fear of his: namely, the supernatural.He wondered how to best broach the subject.

Luke’s unwary eyes were fixated on the Mancala board between them.He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he studied the wooden game board.  There were two rows of six holes cut into the wood with one big hole capping either end.  In each hole lay small stones.  He counted the number of stones in one of the holes, then carefully picked them up and distributed them down the line.He straightened up and smiled at the Professor.“Okay, I think I got it,” he said, folding his hands in his lap.

“Excellent move, Luke.I think you're getting the hang of this."

The Professor put down his now empty teacup and reached for a set of stones on his side of the board.He put a single stone in each hole, with the final stone ending up in the hole at the end.This meant he could go again, so he picked up another set and plopped them down, one by one.Luke watched with a mixture of awe and vexation on his face as the Professor put the last stone down in an empty hole across from one of Luke’s, which had eight inside. 

“…And that means I get to take these stones,” the Professor said, and deftly swooped them up to place in his Mancala. 

Luke leaned back in his seat, obviously trying hard not to show his frustration.He scratched his head under his hat and frowned.“I don’t think I like this game very much, Professor,” he confessed. 

As though on cue, the door to their compartment slid to one side and Emmy entered, a big smile on her face.She stood in the doorway and triumphantly held up her hands; perched atop each one was a plate on which sat a delectable looking, fresh slice of pie.

“You’ll never guess whats going on in the dining car, boys-- they’re giving away free pie in there!They’ve got all kinds, and they all look good!”

“Wow Emmy, that looks great!” Luke exclaimed, eagerly leaping out of his seat.“Which one is for me?”

“Well,” she said, lowering her hands to look down at each slice, then back at Luke again.“Neither.This one is for the Professor, and this one is for me.”

Luke looked crestfallen.“I don’t get one?”

“ _Au contraire_ , little one— I didn’t grab one for you because I knew you wanted to pick out your own!They’ve still got lots of fresh pies in there.Chocolate, key lime, apple, peach— you name it, it’s there!”

Luke looked ready to fly through the door, but he stopped and shyly looked back towards the Professor. 

“Yes, you can go,“ he smiled.“Just remember: a gentleman never forgets his manners, even around free pie.”

Luke’s chest swelled with joy, and he clasped his hands in front of his smiling face.“I’ll just have a little, and then I’ll be right back!”Emmy lifted an arm to allow Luke to duck under it as he sped away.Carefully, she nudged the sliding door closed with the toe of her shoe, then turned to the Professor. 

“I wasn’t sure what you liked either, but something tells me you’re a pecan kind of fellow."

He smiled warmly.“In all honesty, I’ve never met a pie I didn’t agree with.That said, pecan pie is a particular favorite of mine!Thank you."He held out a hand with which to receive the plate, but Emmy did not move.  A wily grin cracked across her face.  The Professor's smile faltered; he raised an eyebrow and lowered his hand.

“So you like pecan, huh?That’s very good to know, because lemon meringue is _my_ favorite.  Would you like to try a little?"She sat down next to the Professor and perched both plates on the his knee.

He paused and looked at his assistant."I'm sorry Emmy, but what am I overlooking?  Am I to assume you have something else on your mind besides pie?"

"Well," she began, “we don't get to be alone very often, and so I was thinking we might take this chance to try something new.”She scooped up a portion of the soft pie with a spoon and held it to his lips.Hesitantly he opened his mouth and took it in.The sweet tang of the lemon mixed with the cool, slightly sweet taste of the meringue filled his senses and mingled nicely with the fading flavor of the Earl Grey he had just finished.She leaned towards him and pressed her lips to his, pressing her tongue past his lips to lightly brush against the inside of his mouth.When she pulled away, traces of meringue were visible on her lips.“…And that’s not the only thing we can do with it.”

As though to emphasize her point, she trailed a finger down his shirt and let it perch on the button to his pants.His eyes flicked towards the door.It was locked.“Luke will be back soon.”

“There was a _lot_ of pie out there.” 

He looked from the door to the pie, then up into Emmy’s eager eyes.Finally, he ceded: “We do this quietly, and when he knocks, we stop.”Her smile widened and he quickly added, “No exceptions.” 

She moved the pies to the table, then scooted herself to the floor between the table and the Professor and wedged herself between his knees.He helped her unbutton and unzip his pants and pulled himself free.He leaned down to kiss her again, but she was otherwise merrily occupied; she enthusiastically grabbed a portion of the pie with her bare hand and sloppily grabbed him with it.He flinched.

“Hold still,” she chided.

As her fingers worked to coat him, the Professor began to relax and allowed himself to enjoy the new sensation.  He adjusted his hat and steadied himself by holding onto her shoulder.  The pie was thick, soft and jelly-like, and the smell was quite delicious.  Soon he was completely rigid under her energetic touch.

He sighed and leaned back.  "Emmy, just where on Earth did you get this idea?"

She looked up at him and smiled.  “Inspiration can be a funny thing.  As soon as I saw this pie, I knew exactly how I wanted to eat it.”She stroked him up and down with the slick, cool substance.He hadn’t noticed until now just how noisy this train was, and how much it jostled as it sped down the track.The jostling added unpredictability to her eagermotions.Even over the noise of the train, however, the sound of the wet pie between their skin could be heard. 

Just as he opened his mouth to caution against the sound, Emmy bent down and licked him, taking in the sticky and fluffy sweetness.She swirled her tongue around the tip, then ran it along the length.She parted her lips and and took as much of him into her warm, wet mouth as she could, humming in delicious satisfaction as she eagerly and thoroughly cleaned every inch.

Unconsciously, he groaned as ran his fingers through her hair.Let caution be damned: right now only the sweet smell of lemons and sugar and the intoxicating vibrations in her divine mouth mattered.He pushed the hair out of her face so he could see her soft lips, pink from use, stretched wide around him.   He traced a thumb along the corner of her mouth.He wanted to somehow make her feel this high also, but her body was mostly out of reach.He gripped her shoulders and her head in a paltry effort to massage her back and scalp.

"Emmy, I can't take much more," he breathed.He clenched his muscles, hoping to last longer, but the effort was in vain and they both knew it.She enveloped as much of him as possible, pulling him into her throat before he finally succumbed.  She made a satisfied sound as the hot cum poured down her throat.  It took a few moments for the pulsing to stop; when she at last drew back, he pulled her close to take that kiss he had earlier been denied, tasting sweet and salty over her tongue. 

Only the crust to the lemon meringue remained, but the pecan pie was still on the table next to the long forgotten Mancala board.He scooped a bit of it onto his finger and held it to her lips.She licked it off and he pushed his lips onto hers to chase the subtle sugary flavor. 

"Stand up," the Professor whispered, finally breaking away.Emmy did as he said, and he lifted the front of her jacket to unbutton her jeans. 

"Hershel, don't you think we're cutting it a little close now?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the door as he pulled her pants to the floor.  She stepped out of her boots and kicked off her pants.  "He could be back soon."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No, no.  You still have some pie left," 

"Then it'll be fine.  Come here."He was still hard; he guided her onto his lap and she eased herself down.He leaned forward and buried his face in her bosom, letting a low groan escape him as their bodies connected.She made to move upward again, but he placed his hands on her hips to halt her movement."Not yet, not yet.  Still a bit too sensitive..."

He pushed open her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse instead.She took some of the pecan pie and spread it over the bare tops of her breasts; the sugary gel was cool and the pecans rough against her soft skin.The Professor lovingly licked and kissed her as he thumbed her hard nipples until no trace of pie remained.

He swiped his tongue under the edge of the fabric to her bra, flicking her hard bud.  Involuntarily she clenched around him, sending little ripples of pleasure through him.  He pulled her bra down enough to fold the fabric under her soft breasts and keep them exposed without having to take it off.  He took another spoonful of pecan pie into his mouth, then used his tongue to spread the substance over her areola.  He dragged a pecan across the sensitive flesh and pressed down with it over her nipple.  As he licked her clean, he moved a hand down her stomach, lower and lower, finally stopping at the point where their bodies met.  He to rubbed her little bundle of nerves there, tracing around it with his thumb before pressing and stroking it.

"Hershel," she panted, "please...." 

Both pies now completely devoured, he twisted his body to gently lean her against the window beside their seat.She drew her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, holding onto his shoulders as he rolled his hips.He moved slowly at first, letting the jostling, oscillating movement of the speeding train contribute while little farmhouses in open fields sped by, oblivious of the sin being committed before them.  Soon the vibrations became inadequate, and he picked up speed as lust consumed them like fire.  He repositioned a foot firmly on the ground so as to be able to thrust harder.  All at once, he could feel her body pitch against his and her walls clench around him.With one last thrust, he allowed himself to again be taken over by sweet, carnal rapture as he came deep inside of her.

When the door finally jostled, it opened easily and Luke skipped in, merrily turning to close the door behind him.When he turned back around, he stopped in his tracks."Professor!" he shouted, "What are you guys doing!"

The Professor was calmly seated across from his assistant, the Mancala board on the table between them."Hello, Luke," he said without looking up, studying the game board as he waited for Emmy to make her move."How was the pie?"

"It was delicious, Professor, but you and I were in the middle of a game!  I still wanted to play Mancala too!"

"Sorry about that, Luke.  You can play winner," he chuckled. "This round will be over soon.It looks like I'm-- what was it you said, Emmy?"

Emmy put the final marble in the last slot, then moved each piece to its respective side of the board.  Hands up and laughing in triumph, she said,  "It's called 'having your _butt kicked_ ,' Professor!"  Still smiling, she turned to Luke and said, "And now we get to see the real battle of the century:  Assistant Number One versus Apprentice Number One!"

"You're on, Emmy! I won't hold back!"  As Luke sat down next to the happily grinning Professor, they heard a voice call out from the hallway.

"Next stop: Saguaro Falls!" 


	6. Forest I

Once Emmy had assured Luke that she could most certainly protect him from any monsters, Luke tried to assure the Professor that he would not be afraid during their investigation. And, almost as though to underscore his dedication, Luke spent the next few days keeping meticulously detailed notes as they sought the reported ‘Unaware Werewolf of Saguaro Falls." Try as he might, however, it was difficult for the Professor to set aside his worry for the young boy. Luke had an innocent infatuation with animals and was curious to a fault, and this particular animal purportedly stood 8 feet tall and had fangs like daggers. On top of that, over the course of the last two days, the citizens had worked themselves up into a riotous frenzy over the death of a farmer’s ewe; they planned to track, find and kill the beast this very night, even if it meant burning down the forest, according to the farmer’s wife. And so, after Luke had fallen soundly asleep on the bed inside of their hotel room, the Professor decided that it was time to bring this case to a close before it could reach that point.

In the soft glow of the full moon filtering through the curtains, Professor Layton silently slipped off the couch. With a final glance over his shoulder at the sleeping figures of his assistant and young protégé tucked snugly in their beds, he reached for the doorknob and quietly turned it. Once in the hallway, he snuck off down the hall and didn’t dare breathe until he had made it down the stairs, across the parlor, and through the front door. Now standing in the cool, dark street, he finally relaxed enough to let out a sigh.

“Thought it would just be that easy, huh?” a voice cooed in his ear.

With a start, Professor Layton spun around and found himself nose-to-nose with the coy, grinning face of his assistant, Emmy. He put a hand on her shoulder and tried to calm his racing heart. “...I suppose I had hoped,” he confessed. He peered over Emmy’s shoulder, but Luke was not behind her.

“You worry too much about that boy,” she said, watching him as he straightened back up. “He’s more capable than you think.”

“I'd rather not test his capabilities needlessly. And, with you beside me, we won’t have to. We should be able to wrap up this whole ordeal and be out of Saguaro Falls by tomorrow.” He paused suddenly as he noticed the state of her dress.

Emmy looked down at herself, then up at the Professor, who was obviously trying not to stare. She was still in her bedclothes: tonight these included some soft shorts and a tank top which, the Professor was able to see even in the darkness of the lamp-less street, was tight around her braless chest. She smiled as she watched his eyes.

"It's been a while since we've had a chance to be alone, Hershel."

He pulled down the brim of his hat. "We should stay focused. It's imperative we close this case… ah…”

She had stepped closer and was now lightly pressed against his body. She whispered in his ear, “I’ve always wanted to do it outside, Hershel. Under the trees, and the moon?  Like _animals_ ….”

He bit his lip to keep himself from replying too quickly. “...I’ll-- I'll certainly keep that in mind, dear. For now, let’s go.”

With a smile, Emmy followed along after the Professor, and they soon found themselves nearing the edge of the forest where the townspeople were supposed to gather. Layton had feared that the hunt would become out of control and violent if they weren't immediately successful, and their fears seemed confirmed when they spied the unmistakable flickering glow of a fire shining bright against the chimneys and the roofs of the houses at the edge of town. So, when they got closer and started hearing lively music, Emmy and the Professor looked at each other, confused. Finally, they passed the last house on this street and were met with a most unusual scene.

The warm, flickering glow of a bonfire in the center of the activity illuminated what looked to be less of a manhunt and more of a large party or small festival. There were even people selling food and goods in stalls haphazardly thrown together around the fire. As they wandered onto this scene, a man grabbed Layton’s sleeve as he passed by, trying to push onto him a plastic cup full of lemonade. He politely declined and freed himself, hurriedly moving away and out of the man’s reach.

“It seems as though the hunt for the werewolf has somehow itself made a lycanthropic transformation.” He smoothed out his jacket sleeve and looked around at a group of people dancing around the fire. One stumbled and almost dove head-first into the flames, but twisted and narrowly managed to instead hit the dirt. The crowd nearby cheered and laughed as the person sprung up and continued dancing.

He looked away from that scene to Emmy, who smiled at him around a mouthful of bright pink cotton candy. “I think they're all drunk, Professor! But at least they’re dancing with fiddles and not marching with pitchforks!"

"How could this have happened?"

"I dunno, but let’s not look a gift-horse in the mouth!”

The Professor lifted the brim of his hat just enough to wipe his brow with his sleeve. “You’re right. I suppose that this—“ he waived a hand around him, “should buy us quite some time to find the creature and settle things ourselves.”

“That’s the spirit!  And I'll bet you anything that the creature’s been curious about what is going on here, and may even still be nearby!”

The Professor nodded and allowed himself to be led away from the music and the crowd towards the seclusion of the forest. Soon they were just outside the sphere of light cast by the bonfire. They walked side by side in the soft glow as they aimlessly wandered through the trees. Just as Emmy was beginning to rethink this course of action, the Professor suddenly stopped. He pointed to the ground. "Emmy, dear, tell me. What do you see here?"

Emmy kneeled to study the ground. "Well Professor, I'd tell you I'm looking at fresh dog tracks, except that they are much bigger than any domestic canine I've ever met!"

"Good! And also--"

"--They don't overlap." They looked at each other with wide eyes and smiles to match. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this dog walks on two legs, Professor."

"Come, Emmy. We may be close!"

Emmy and the Professor quickly followed the trail deeper into the forest by the light of the full moon, which loomed close overhead as though it were watching their progress with interest. The muffled noise of the people at the bonfire soon completely died away and was replaced by a near silence. Overhead, the tops of the trees swayed in the breeze, though the air around them was still. The trail became harder to follow and soon they lost it completely; here, the ground was rocky and crunched underfoot as they came to the edge of a lake and the waterfall for which the town was named.

"Wait," the Professor said. "Do you smell that?"

"It's hard to tell, but it smells kind of like... something's cooking. I think it's coming from over there." She pointed towards the cliff side near the waterfall.

Cautiously, they approached the rocky face; it was difficult to seek out the source of the aroma over the odoriferous lake. They hugged the cliff side as Emmy led them along the edge about ten feet above the freezing water.

"Stop," a voice commanded and the Professor felt something jab his ribs from behind. "What the hell are you two doing so far from town?"

They froze in place. They didn't recognize the voice, and they didn't dare to make a move to look, lest they startle whoever it was. "We are on the trail of what we believe to be the source of the werewolf paranoia plaguing this town," the Professor shouted over the roar of the rushing water. "We followed its footsteps to this location, but we mean no harm to anyone. We are unarmed."

Silence from the assailant. The Professor strained to hear anything over the cascading water. Finally, the person spoke again. "Were you followed?"

"No."

Silence again. Then, "In about a dozen steps, you will feel an opening in the wall. Enter it."

They did as told, and felt their way into the cave. It was dark inside, but they could see the glowing embers of a recent fire at the back; the delicious smell of stew filled the air. They could hear a match being struck, and they turned to face their aggressor.

A bent, wrinkled old woman stood before them in the flickering glow from the torch she had placed in a holder on the cave wall. Her stance was relaxed, but in her hands she held tight to a pistol.

"You are the ones from London? I thought you looked unfamiliar."

"Yes, that's right. My name is Hershel Layton, and I teach archaeology out of London. This is my assistant, Emmy Altava." Emmy nodded in greeting.

She studied the man and woman standing before her for a moment, her eyes barely visible between layers of wrinkles. “Call me Bee. So... a werewolf huh?" She laughed. "These people get stupider every year." Emmy and the Professor raised their eyebrows and turned to each other.

"We were skeptical also, but we found some rather large paw prints in the soil nearby that seem to suggest bipedal canine movement. So, do you know what made those?" the Professor asked.

"Come, sit with me and have some stew. You'll see for yourselves soon."

They hesitated and hung back, wanting to get their answers right away, but she impatiently waived them over. Reluctantly, they acquiesced and sat on the rough stone floor of the cave near the large pot of stew. She fixed them both a bowl and sat back, watching the mouth of the cave.

Suddenly, a massive, hairy figure blocked the moonlit entrance. Its pointed ears nearly brushed the ceiling as it lumbered inside. As it entered the sphere of light cast by the torch, they could see its long, drooling snout and sharp teeth. It let out a strange sound somewhere between a wail and a groan as it labored to walk.

Emmy and the Professor could feel their hearts beating in their chests as they scrambled to their feet. Wordlessly, the old woman glided past them, her hands empty of the pistol she clutched earlier, and walked right up to the monster. Without hesitation, she threw open her arms and gave it a big hug. She turned to face Emmy and the Professor. "This is Saguaro. This is what the people in that shit town have labeled a monster, what they have decided to try and hunt and kill."

She brought the creature closer. Suddenly, they realized that the poor creature was nothing more than an ordinary wolf that had somehow been disfigured. His front legs had been amputated, and he was forced to use only his hind legs to stand. Bee brought the creature past the Professor and Emmy and started preparing another bowl of stew. The wolf awkwardly leaned against the wall to slide down to a sitting position, then eagerly ate up the food.

“I fear there isn’t much more I can do," she said, holding the bowl up to Saguaro's mouth. "He got caught in a bear trap about six months ago— I found him, patched him up, and taught him to walk upright. He’s been left behind by his pack, and now the town wants him dead. It was all I could do to stall them tonight, but I don't know if that'll work next time."

" _You_ did that?" Emmy asked, impressed.

"Yes. I just spiked some lemonade and started handing it out." She snickered and shook her head. "Saguaro is the most amazing creature.  He deserves to be named after this beautiful waterfall more than that stupid town.  I just wish I could make them see that.  I wish... I wish there was some way that they could meet him, and talk with him...."

Emmy and the Professor exchanged excited grins. "Actually, we might be able to help you with that...."


	7. Forest II

By the time Emmy and the Professor had returned to the party at the edge of the woods, most of the people who were still around had ungracefully passed out in the green grass near what was left of the fire.  What few others remained awake were seated around the warmth of the dying embers; one man was playing the guitar and a few others were singing enthusiastically alongside him.

“Ah. There he is, Professor," Emmy said, pointing towards the wailing group. “And something tells me he’s in no condition to meet his fabled werewolf right now.”

Sure enough, when he looked to where she was pointing, the Professor saw the mayor of the town lying lethargically against a tree behind the guitar player, yowling tunelessly to the music.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “Well, Emmy, perhaps it is for the best.  The townspeople will most likely be more receptive to meeting their 'monster' under the light of the morning sun, after all.  …Or, perhaps, the afternoon sun as it were."

“Yeah… I guess it’s good we didn’t wake up Luke before we found the mayor.”  Suddenly, Emmy frowned and looked around. “Hey, Professor, I just realized something. These people aren't very well equipped to hunt tonight….“

"Yes," the Professor laughed quietly, "I wondered about that too. I can’t help but think that we may have our friend Bee to thank for that."

Her eyes lit up and she laughed.  “Do you think she has all the guns and weapons hidden somewhere in the forest?  I guess we'll know for sure when the deer and hares revolt, huh?"  The Professor chuckled lightly.  She sighed and continued, “It's been fun, but I suppose we ought to head back to the hotel, huh?”

The Professor was still smiling as he turned his gaze to the starry sky and the full moon.  He seemed to be thinking out loud.  “Well, we can’t wrap up the case tonight and without Luke like I had hoped.  Still, there is _one thing_ remaining on our agenda.”

Emmy, who had been halfheartedly monitoring the drunkards around the fire pit, quickly turned to look at the Professor. “Oh?”

“What was it that you said? _‘Like animals, under the moon_ ’?”

Before she could reply, he took her hand in his and led her back towards the forest, carefully stepping over the well-dressed but completely prostrate figure of the town banker among several others face down in the grass.

Heart beating fast, Emmy followed him into the woods until they reached a grassy clearing.  Here, he pulled her close and in one swift motion, pinned her bodily against a tree and captured her mouth in his.  He tilted his head and kissed her deeply.  She fervently raked her fingers through his hair as they kissed, carelessly knocking his hat to the ground.  His hands snaked up over her hips and stomach, then pressed against her soft chest; she gasped as his fingers found the little buds through the soft material of her shirt.

Emmy could feel him hard against her lower stomach. She ground herself against him, and he suddenly broke the kiss to hide his face in the crook of her neck.  He let out a loud, lustful groan.

 _“Emmy, I want you to_ _fuck me,”_ he growled, hungrily kissing the side of her neck. _“I want you to_ _fuck me hard_.   _I want to watch you use me to pleasure yourself, Emmy.”_

Her face was hot; she never heard him swear before, and it sent shivers over her flesh.  She hastily pushed off his brown coat and helped him pull his shirt up over his head.  While she undid his pants, he quickly yanked off her shirt and shorts.  Finally free of textile restrictions, they collapsed to the ground, he pulling her on top of him.

She pinned his arms over his head with one hand and gripped him with the other, rubbing him against her wetness.  She could feel him twitch in anticipation against her clit, precum dripping down his shaft.  Completely naked and surrounded by a grassy halo, Emmy couldn’t help but pause to stare at her boss completely prone and panting beneath her.  Slowly she sank down until she was sitting on top of him; he groaned loudly again.

“Hershel, you’re going to get us caught!” she breathed, but she quickened her pace with a smile as he squirmed below her.

“It’s OK,” he growled, “they’re too far away, they won’t hear.”

Emmy released her grip on his wrists and trailed her fingers over his arms, then his shoulders, and down to his chest. She reveled in seeing his body moving with each of her thrusts in the dappled light of the full moon.  He watched her as she trailed her fingers down over his abdomen, then to the point where their bodies met.  As she bounced, her finger moved up to rub her clit; her other hand moved up to squeeze her bare breast.  She leaned her head back, allowing her long, dark hair to fall behind her as she cried out his name in pleasure.

"Emmy, my god," the Professor said, breathlessly, "you're beautiful-- you're going to make me cum--"

Her naked body, rapt in the throes of ecstasy, was backdropped by the midnight sky full of bright stars.  He ran his hands over her skin, rubbing her thigh and giving much needed attention to her other breast.  Soon, he could feel her tighten and flutter around him as her orgasm took over her body.

" _Shit_ , I can't wait any more," he said as her whimpers began to soften.  With a grunt, he flipped them over and began quickly pounding into her.  Her cries became loud and uncontrolled once more as he stroked her deepest parts.  Her fingernails scratched his back and neck.  "I'm coming, Emmy, I'm coming!" he growled.  He thrust once more and succumbed to the profound feeling of immense pleasure washing over him.

Emmy could feel the Professor's cock pulsing inside of her, then the feeling of wetness seeping out.  They hugged each other tight as they waited for their breathing and their heartbeats to return to a normal pace.  Under the stars and the light of the full moon, they languidly kissed, then slowly drifted off to sleep, still holding fast to one another in the cool night air.

...

When Emmy and the Professor finally stumbled back to their hotel, Luke was already sitting at the table, his feet swinging as he ate his grilled cheese sandwich.  He greeted them tersely without looking up; spread on the table all around him were different sections of the newspaper, and he was currently working hard on the crossword puzzle section.

“Good morning, Luke” Emmy said, rubbing her eyes.

Luke looked up. "Emmy, it’s not morning. It's almost noon. Where have you guys been?"

"We were, uh, hunting the werewolf," she said, avoiding his scrutinizing stare.

"That's what I figured! But why did you go without me?"

The Professor avoided the question as he set the kettle on the stove. “We’ll need to go back out again soon.  It turns out that the werewolf is actually a mere wolf, and we need you to talk to it and translate for the mayor today!”

“Really?” Luke asked. "Don't they have everything figured out now?"

"What do you mean?" Emmy said.

Luke pointed to the front page of the newspaper. “The townspeople have already made friends with it. Take a look!”

“No way! Let me see!” Emmy picked up the paper and started reading it.  She made a startled noise.  “It says here that the mayor of town was out late last night 'patrolling' the area for any sign of the monster.” She paused and squinted at the text in disbelief.  “He says that Saguaro ‘appeared to me as though in a dream.  He was not a monster at all, but instead, a deity. With poise and grace, he stood before me as the ancient god Anubis, and the town of Saguaro Falls will end the hunt for the werewolf and instead humbly welcome him and his keeper, Beatrice Villalobos, as heroes and saviors of this land.’” She whistled and looked over at the Professor, who stared back open mouthed and uncharacteristically dumbfounded.

“Keep reading!” Luke said. “It says that there are new monsters in town!”

“New monsters—?” The Professor quickly crossed the small kitchen and stood by Emmy’s side to read over her shoulder.

Emmy continued, “‘...The mayor believes that Anubis is the only one who can protect this town from the new threat.  Last night it was confirmed by a group of citizens who were patrolling at the edge of town—’” she scoffed at the word choice but kept going, “‘—that the forest now has wraiths.’”  She frowned.   _“Wraiths?”_

“‘At about midnight, their telltale screams could be heard from deep in the forest.’  _…Screams?_   In the forest? I didn’t hear—” He stopped. He and Emmy looked at each other with wide eyes. “Certainly not….”

Puzzled, Luke looked from the terror-stricken expression on Emmy’s face to that on the Professor's.  “W-what’s going on?” he asked, suddenly fearful.

Neither made a move or said a word.  Suddenly, the sound of the kettle pierced the silence, startling the two adults into action. The Professor raced back to the stove and turned it off.  “It's nothing to worry about, my boy!”

“Nope, nothing, little one!” Emmy said, forcing a laugh. “It looks like our job here is done though, huh?”

“That’s right. Let’s pack up and head to the station, shall we?” The Professor abandoned the kettle and headed for his trunk lying open on the couch.

“Huh?  Aren’t we going stay and solve the mystery behind this new monster?”  Luke said, confused.

“I don’t see a reason to stick around.  They did a good job with the last mystery, I’m sure they will be just fine with this one.” Emmy said, trying to suppress a rising panic.

“Hurry now, my boy,” called the Professor from the other side of the room. “Let’s try to catch the next train.”

Luke slipped off his chair and began to race around for his belongings.  Their anxiety was infectious.  “Where’s the train guide? Shouldn’t we check to see when the next train leaves?”

“Doesn’t matter.  Let’s just go!”

And with that, the trio left the small, highly superstitious town of Saguaro Falls behind for good.  Not every one of the famous Professor’s investigations culminates in an amazing archaeological discovery or ends with the outing of a criminal mastermind.  No, some investigations end up closing themselves, quietly and without grandeur, while our heroes involve themselves in other matters.  

Needless to say, this was not a story that Hershel Layton would one day tell his grandchildren.


	8. Train II

It took what felt to Professor Layton like an ungodly amount of time to find the marble pieces to his Mancala set. He could feel himself begin to sweat as he pushed aside clothing, toiletries and knickknacks while searching each corner of his trunk. Luke tried to be helpful by doing his best to hold the trunk still on the little table as the rickety train jostled and swayed on its tracks. Emmy stood opposite them and merely looked on. Once he had finally retrieved all of the marbles, the Professor, Emmy and Luke sat down at their seats in the noisy carriage to play a round, hoping to make the time go by more quickly. Despite their collective best efforts, however, the game didn’t do much to ease the dense awkwardness between them.

 _The Dachshund_ was an infamously cheap train which traveled all over Europe, and as such, it was completely packed. Each carriage was stuffed with little tables capped on either end with lumpy seating. The carriage was noisy and cramped, and the Professor couldn’t wait to get back home. Each time he peered outside, he expected to see buildings indicating their getting close to the metropolis. However, with each subsequent glance, he grew more and more disappointed to find only fields and farmland speeding by. Whats more, each glance across the table towards his assistant, Emmy, made him feel hot under the collar; a fact which he hoped would go unnoticed by his young companion’s keen eyes. Luke was smart, and unwaveringly observant, and the Professor knew he was trying to read the situation between he and Emmy.

The Professor sipped his lukewarm tea. All they served on _the Dachshund_  was something called “green mango paradise,” but it looked and tasted more like diluted dishwater than tea. Perhaps it was all the bodies nearby, but at one point, the carriage began to feel unbearably stuffy. He took off his jacket and laid it on his lap. Emmy must have felt similarly warm; she removed her yellow blazer and also set it aside. Luke placed his marbles in the Mancala and sat back, his eyebrows raised in shock. He had resoundingly won a match against the Professor! The Professor gave an obligatory smile and looked outside. With a frown, Luke looked up at him, then at Emmy, and back again.

“Professor, what happened to your neck?  How did you get those scratches there?  And Emmy— did you know you had bruises?”

Emmy and the Professor quickly reached up to their respective necks, startled. “It was—“

“It was a tree! I tripped and bumped into a tree.”

“And I was trying to help and got scratched by a branch.” The Professor tugged down the brim of his hat and hurriedly put his coat back on.

Uncontrollably, his mind flashed back to the forest, to the feel of the cool grass beneath him and the sight of her raven hair crowned with soft moonlight. He could feel the sharp pain of Emmy’s nails digging into his bare back, her strong legs desperately wrapped around his waist and the sound of her gasping cries as he—

The Professor sucked in a deep, calming breath of air and watched as Emmy put her last marble in its slot, completing her turn. She had adjusted her hair to cover most of her neck, but he could still see dark spots below her chin. He inwardly cringed. He hadn't realized how badly he must have hurt her. How on earth could he call himself a gentleman and a role model to Luke?

Eventually, Luke excused himself from the table to go find the restroom. The tension between the Professor and his assistant was palpable. Finally, Emmy broke the silence.

“Well, that little adventure sure didn’t turn out the way we expected, huh Professor?” She had a nervous smile on her face.

He nodded. “I had an inkling we’d make the papers with this investigation, but I wasn’t prepared for… for that.”

The Professor opened his mouth to continue speaking, but he was cut off; Emmy snorted and had inexplicably begun laughing. The Professor was momentarily taken aback; after a moment’s hesitation, his serious expression faltered and he found himself laughing with her. With a sigh, he finally felt his tension leave him; he felt light for the first time since they had read that cursed newspaper at their hotel.

Emmy leaned in, wiping a tear away. “Too bad we didn’t get to be the ones to expose the truth to the town, though.”

His voice low, the Professor responded, “Well, you can be difficult to resist.”

“Is that so?”  She smirked coyly, and reached out with one hand to touch his. “You know,” she whispered, her sultry voice barely audible over the sounds of the train and the people around them, “it really was just a small price to pay for being able to hear you swear, Professor.  I'd always dreamed of hearing the words _'fuck me'_ come out of your mouth.”

“Yes, well…. Even I get carried away sometimes….”

Emmy looked around at the people milling about, then back at the Professor.  Suddenly, he could feel something slide along his thigh and press against him.  Startled, he looked down and saw her bare foot positioned between his legs, her toes massaging him through the fabric of his pants. He looked up at her; feigning naïveté, she folded her fingers under her chin and grinned devilishly.

He pulled down the brim of his hat to hide his face from the other passengers. “Emmy, not here.  We can’t afford a repeat of….”

His words trailed off. An old couple walked down the aisle beside him, carrying a bag of crisps and talking together as they returned to their seats. There was a group of rowdy American fraternity members at the table nearest them; out of the corner of his eye he could see their insignias on their matching shirts. Some people dressed in business attire were opposite them. Nobody seemed to notice what Emmy was doing to him under the table. He could feel himself responding to her touch despite his best efforts to remain neutral in this very public space.

Emmy was obviously enjoying watching the Professor squirm in his seat. Her face was pink, her breathing quick. As she traced along his swollen length with her toes, she bit her bottom lip. Finally, she leaned in again and whispered, “I need to see you get carried away again, Hershel.”

He swallowed hard. “Emmy, it’s not like we can go off somewhere quiet when I’m—“ He looked pointedly down and rapped his knuckles across the table for emphasis.

“Let me fix that.”

With a glance about her surroundings, Emmy quickly slipped down and disappeared under the table. A moment later, the Professor gasped as he felt her body wedge between his knees and his zipper being forcefully tugged down. Her hand roughly gripped him and pulled him out, and he felt her wet mouth eagerly and fully engulf him.

The Professor sucked in a breath.  He gripped his hat and titled it down once more. He daren’t look under the table for fear of causing someone else to do the same. His face was unbearably hot; his heart was pounding in his chest. He shivered as he felt her blow cool air on him, then the sensation of her tongue tickling along the tip before her mouth pulled him in again. He could feel her hands gripping him at the base, massaging everything she couldn’t fit into her mouth. Her hair tickled his exposed skin. The train swayed suddenly and she made a startled sound; it turned into a deep moan that only he could hear.

He felt his muscles getting tight; he was going to come soon, right here in the middle of a packed train carriage, right into his assistant’s mouth, right in front of the whole world.  Emmy whimpered as though begging him to let go.  Hesitantly, and against his better judgement, he leaned back and looked down to see the gorgeous, dark haired woman beneath the table. The top of her white blouse had been pulled open to reveal her bra; the dark skin around her nipple was visible over it.  She had one hand tightly gripped around him, and the other was tucked into her pants and quickly moving between her legs.

Nervously, the Professor put his hand up to shield his face from anyone nearby. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip to stifle a moan.  Emmy's lips and tongue were concentrating attention on the tip now while her hand worked his length-- she must've realized he was close.  Seemingly of its own volition, his hand slinked down under the table to caress her soft, fluffy hair.  Suddenly, she gasped and moaned deeply around him, and he wondered briefly whether she was coming right now.  Desperately, he tried to hold himself back, but it was to no avail.  Finally, the Professor felt himself completely overcome by an immense, almost excruciating pleasure.  In that moment, the noisy train was drowned out and pure ecstasy rolled over him in waves; Emmy made a startled noise and pulled him in deep.  She hummed mirthfully in satisfaction.

He took a moment to catch his breath. The sounds of the busy  carriage slowly returned, and he cautiously looked about. Everyone seemed to be going about their business as usual. Nobody was staring at him in shock. He slowly leaned back again to see Emmy wiping her chin with the back of her sleeve, a satisfied grin playing on her face. She caught him looking, and her grin widened.

“Feel better?”

He tried to talk, but choked. He cleared his throat and hastily motioned for her to get out from under the table.

Emmy fixed her blouse and reemerged between the Professor and the window, her innocent grin still fixed in place. With shaking hands, the Professor carefully fixed his pants and zipped them back up again.  Emmy watched, amused.  She opened her mouth to speak again, but the Professor quickly leaned in and cut her off.

 _“You’re a very naughty girl, Emmy Altava,”_ he growled into her ear under his breath. “Certainly you weren't expecting to be able to simply sit there for the rest of the trip, were you?"  His eyes flicked towards the end of the carriage, then back to Emmy's glowing red face.  " _Naughty girls deserve punishment._ ”

She leaned back and looked at him, startled by his sudden aggressive tone. “Well, I mean—“

Despite the proximity, his voice was barely audible over the noise of the busy carriage.  “ _Every vice has a consequence_ , _Emmy_."  He slid off the bench and stood up.  " _Follow me_.”


	9. Train III

The sun was beginning to dip below the hills, leaving the otherwise darkening sky a bright pink at the horizon. It was unusual to see the esteemed Professor without his hat, but it was obvious to Emmy now why he had decided to leave it at their table. The wind whipped through her hair as she watched him approach her on the little observation deck outside of the last train car.  She gripped the rail in anticipation. As he drew near, his hands tugged on his belt buckle, then pulled on it, slowly drawing the length through each belt loop. His lips parted as he drew near; he leaned forward and spoke quietly in her ear.

“I think it’s time you face the consequences of your actions, my dear,” he said, his voice barely audible over the wind.

Emmy smiled. “Let me guess, Mister Layton— you will act as judge, jury and executioner in this case?”

He only chuckled quietly. She had tried to sound confident, but she could feel her knees growing weak. Now his body was pressed lightly against hers; she could feel the edge of the only table on the patio against the back of her legs. And then, with unanticipated softness, his lips touched hers. Lightly, gently. Her eyelids fluttered open after a moment to see him lean away just far enough to speak.

“Emmy, you make me want to do things I would never dream of otherwise.”

She had only a moment to consider his words before her mind suddenly registered her downward descent. In the next moment, her back was flat against the surface of the table.  She could see the deck's ceiling and a bit of the sky up above.  Professor Layton came into view, looming over her; he was tying her arms to one of the rails with what she could only assume was his belt. The rail was cold. She must have flinched at the chilled metal because she could feel him softly rub her hand before continuing to tighten the leather.

His face came back into view for just a moment, smiling, and then disappeared again. Emmy could hear a heavy scraping sound and she turned to watch as he pulled a chair out from beside the table and propped it up against the door, ensuring no train staff or unsuspecting passenger would come out of the caboose and onto the deck. He returned to stand beside her, a hungry look in his dark eyes.

Slowly, he drew a finger up her hip and along her side. She shivered. She had earlier taken off her yellow jacket and, despite the wind, did not regret it. She lay before him clad only in her thin white blouse and matching pants. As he lazily traced around the underside of her breast, then down her center and over her bellybutton, he spoke.

“My dear, I wish I could adequately describe to you how appetizing you appear,” he said.

She eagerly kicked her shoes off.  “Well Professor, if you can’t tell me, then _show_ me.”

Professor Layton’s eyebrows flicked upward for a fraction of a second, but whatever surprised look he may have had vanished almost instantly and was replaced with a wry grin.

“It would be my pleasure.”

He bent down to capture her neck in a few soft kisses. Slowly, he opened his mouth wider and bit down onto the bruises that were already there just hard enough to make her gasp. She moved her shoulder to give him better access, which he immediately took advantage of. Once he was finished there, he kissed over her throat until he could reach the opposite side. As he lavished that side of her neck, his fingers sought the first button on her blouse. He ran his thumb over it. Emmy tried again to push herself upward into his hand, but he seemed to enjoy making her wait.

Finally, the first button came free, and the next one soon after that. He had just enough room to trace a line down her sternum with one finger. His kisses followed after, down the small opening in her shirt. With his nose, he pushed open her shirt a little further; his tongue slipped under the fabric of her bra. Her heart racing, Emmy let out a small squeak in surprise. With a pleased smile on his face, the Professor stood up, and Emmy shot him a look of pure frustration.

“Hey! I didn’t torture _you_ like this—!” she hissed.

“Patience, my dear.” His fingers slowly continued unbuttoning her shirt. “We have a long way to go before we get to London, and we do need your blouse to function properly after we’re done here.”

With a huff, Emmy allowed her head to drop back onto the table. She needed something to distract her from the burning sensation just below her bellybutton. She tried to concentrate on the rafters in the ceiling above her, or the sky and the trees speeding by. However, when the last button came undone, there was only one thing on her mind.

“Why don’t you untie me now, Professor?” she said, feigning sweetness. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Professor chuckled. “Then consider this supplementary tutelage a bonus, hm?”

And with that, his fingers deftly undid the only remaining button: the one on her pants. Emmy gasped as he pulled the garments down and off in one fluid motion. Suddenly, she was completely exposed from the waist down.

_“Hershel!”_

For just a fraction of a second, the Professor paused, drinking in the deliciousness of her nude form. In the same moment, Emmy couldn’t help but appreciate her boss before her. There he stood between her bare legs, the wind whipping through his soft, brown hair. His mouth was slightly ajar as he gently moved his fingers over her thighs. His nails lightly scraped against her flesh. She moaned his name, begging for him to bring her to satisfaction.

“Hershel,” she said again, softly. This seemed to stir him from whatever reverie he was experiencing. His eyes flicked upward to meet hers, then he leaned down to kiss the top of her hip lightly. The contact sent butterflies racing through her stomach. Suddenly, the kiss became harder and more desperate as he moved downward. He caressed her thighs with his hands now, rubbing up and over her knees, then back again. Between kisses, he whispered her name over and over again, getting closer and closer to her core. He licked her outer lip and drew it into his mouth. Unable to reach him with her hands, Emmy instead wrapped her legs around his shoulders. His tongue licked across her entrance and she moaned his name again.

Finally, his mouth captured her clit and his tongue flicked against it with a rapid motion, sending waves of pleasure through her body. One hand pet her belly, then her breast. Then, at long last, his fingers found her nipple beneath the fabric of her bra; he rolled it around between his thumb and forefinger while the fingers of his other hand pushed into her wetness, deftly stroking her inside. She wriggled and writhed beneath his touch.

Then her mind went blank. She gasped. Nothingness. The only thing that existed to her was ecstasy, white hot. Her whole body was aflame, and then, all at once, she shuddered and everything seemed to come crashing down.

As she sought to catch her breath, she squeezed her eyelids shut, then opened them again. It was difficult to focus. Slowly, however, the grinning countenance of Professor Layton came into view. She watched him straighten up. He pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket, shook it once to unfold it, and proceeded to wipe his face.  Looking down, Emmy could see his erection straining against the fabric of his pants.

Slowly, she wrapped her legs around his waist.  "C'mon Professor, you're not ready to quit, are you?"

"Surely you must think better of me than that."  He tucked his handkerchief away, then unbuttoned his own trousers.  "You know that I never leave a puzzle only half-solved."  Emmy grinned as he pulled his erection free.  He rubbed its head against her wetness, prodding her entrance and letting it pulse against her clit. 

She tightened her legs around him, pulling him closer.  " _Dammit_ , Hershel," she groaned.  "You're also not supposed to keep a lady waiting!"  

"How else am I supposed to teach you about patience?"  He smiled, but finally obliged. 

He repositioned himself, then slowly slid inside.  She eagerly pressed her legs against his back, forcing him in deeply.  She wiggled against him, urging him on, and the Professor built up to a steady rhythm.  He put a hand on either side of her shoulders to steady himself.  The train swayed as it sped along its tracks.  Despite the cool night air whipping by, Emmy could feel the sweat rolling off of the Professor, and she could feel her own body burning beneath his.  The little table creaked under the weight of their bodies, under the rhythm of their combined motions.  In the darkness, Emmy slipped one hand out from the belt which fastened her to the rail and ran it through the Professor's hair, scratching his scalp.  

Something in him changed just then, and suddenly the Professor was thrusting harder than before.  He leaned down and buried his face in her neck, muttering her name between breaths.  Emmy felt the buildup behind her navel once again come to a sharp point.  She closed her eyes and let the inevitable wash over her, moaning and bucking herself into him.  At the same time, the Professor's breathing became ragged and his thrusts sporadic.  He could feel her clenching around him as her whole body shuddered.  With a final groan, he let himself go, releasing deep inside her.  

Eventually, their breathing slowly returned to normal.  The Professor kissed Emmy's jawline and sighed.  She could feel his warm breath against her neck.  After a spell, he propped himself onto his elbows and regarded her with a smile, eyeing the one arm that was still held to the rail by his belt.  

"You are a fascinating creature, aren't you?  Resourceful to no end."  

Emmy returned his smile with a laugh, and easily slipped her other hand free of the leather.  "Would you expect anything less from your Assistant Number One?"  She raked both hands through his hair, and he hummed in satisfaction.  "Someone ought to teach you how to tie a knot properly, you know.  Perhaps next time the teacher shall become the pupil." 

This time, the Professor laughed.  "I look forward to it."

Later, the pair returned to their table in a worried haste, looking for Luke in the crowded traincar.  Before their approach, they had speculated that he would be upset and stressed over their absence.  However, as they pressed their way past the other passengers towards their table, they were mildly surprised to see their table full of sweets and other delectable-looking goods.  Luke smiled when he saw them and waved them over, gesturing towards the spread.  

"I hope you guys are hungry!"


End file.
